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I know I should probably spend less time reading fiction and what not and more time reading medicine but - I don't think I can ever go back to first/second year when I barely read any real books at all. Anyway, tangential aside over, today I remembered that I used to have a booklist up on Blurty and I hunted it down and realised it was 5 years ago! I looked through it again and have crossed out another 25 books (instead of, you know, showering and doing productive stuff). I know there are a million books-to-read-before-you-die lists, and there have probably been some amazing books in the last 5 years which I should have read, and this list is pretty flawed in some ways but anyway. Maybe I'll post another list up one day.

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I seem to make "emotional" decisions logically and "logical" "everyday" decisions emotionally.

Which makes me a callous, but self-doubting cunt.

It sets me up for this future where I see myself, in maybe two years, as someone with a wildly successful and illustrious career, but who will be sexually-frustrated, distant from her colleagues, mocked by her extended family for having resoundingly failed in her personal life (which is, after all, the yardstick by which every young woman should be measured by in their culture), and bitterly incapable of sharing her debilitating sense of inadequacy with her friends.

I'm actually excited about the Oscars this year and I'm not sure why! Okay, maybe it's because I've watched like most of the movies being nominated (thank you, Orange, for your half-price movie tickets every Wednesday) and I've gotten into several movie fandoms. So before I go to sleep, because America has to be all inconvenient and be in a different time zone, I'm going to write down who I think should win (not who I want to) for each category based on what I've actually seen and then check the results tomorrow and feel smug/sad/probably both.Except that for a lot of them e.g. art direction, cinematography I'm so not qualified to decide. Ask someone intelligent. Like insideabubble.

Actor: James Franco for 127 hoursSupporting Actor: Christian Bale for The FighterActress: Natalie Portman for Black SwanSupporting Actress: Hailee Steinfeld for True Grit Animated Film: Toy Story 3Costume Design: True Grit/Alice in WonderlandDirecting: Bloody hell. Any of them.Music: The Social Network/127 HoursPicture: Inception.[Why are there so many nominees?]Visual Effects: Harry PotterWriting: The Social NetworkOriginal Writing: Inception

Okay, people, go forth and win!

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I obsess over what I eat, and then I go on holiday and eat 2 to 3 times what I usually do and don't put on much weight. I lose weight when I don't go to the gym and eat fuck loads in Singapore.

I study my ass off so that all I do is study and I still do the same as everyone else. Maybe it'll make a difference when it comes to exams, but right now my essays are not exactly mind-blowing examples of stellar work.

My obsessive, compulsive, over-achieving, perfection-oriented personality drives me to kill myself trying and trying and trying, but sometimes it doesn't seem worth it when the results don't tally up with the effort.

Except I don't know how to do it any way else. I don't know what will happen if I slack a little. I don't know how and I don't know why.

But wahey, here's a rare moment of optimism: life is just a series of opportunities for you to get right.

I went to bed last night in the middle of watching the latest Friday Night Lights, maybe about quarter to 12, feeling a bit nauseous because of something I ate or because I hadn't eaten enough the whole day. Except that everything I ate, I forced myself to eat because I haven't had any appetite what so ever. I eat because it's time to eat, not because I want to. Food doesn't excite me.

And I wake up today, with the first drops of rain, about half 6 in the morning. Everything is pitch dark outside, my alarm is set for 8, so I roll over and try to get back to sleep. At 10 to 7, I say to myself, 'Sod it', and get up, check my phone, get out of bed and make me a cup of tea and, because the packet I brought back is open and having one will remind me of home, and I probably should eat something cause my heart kind of aches, I pick up a tim-tam. I get to my room, sit down, start watching Friday Night Lights from where I left home, and chat to Manpreet. Life, for this moment, is a-ok.

Then I spill my cup of tea on myself. About quarter of the cup. But it's so hot my body screams and I spill the rest of it and it hurts, it really, really hurts I can't feel anything but the pain and the shock. I freeze, maybe for a second. Finally my brain kicks in, I jump out, I strip off my clothes and run to the shower to douse myself in cold water. And my emotions, always precarious for the last two days, they bubble over and I find myself sobbing in the shower, half from pain, half from I don't even know what. I'm clutching my stomach because I really, really hurt - the pain inside is drowning out the burns on my leg.

I don't know why I feel so lost, so alone. I always feel a bit homesick when I get back, but never this bad. I clutch Canada to myself every night when I go to bed, the conversations with my friends are awkward because I'm too emotionally retarded for human contact, a tear slips out my eye when I'm walking down the road.

When I'm in Singapore, I miss my life in London - the ability to set my own schedule for myself, for one, or my mobile plan, or being able to go to the gym easily. And when I'm in London, I don't miss my life in Singapore. I don't even miss Singapore itself. But I find myself pining for my friends, my family. I feel... alone, even though I enjoy this life that I've constructed for myself on my own. I cherish the independence - so why do I feel alone? I guess this is the life I've given myself for the next 3.5 years: neither here, nor there, not fully happy in either place.

I'm so tired now. I've never slept so much in a plane (nearly 6 hours, I think) but I'm exhausted. I've unpacked, sorted my room out (again), but the list of things that I need to do started piling up ages ago. I'm kind of glad I came back on the day my uni starts, so I can jump straight into things without moping around, but also, funnily, kind of dreading jumping into things especially since I have no idea where I'm going to land. A first for this year looks unlikely, running at all looks unlikely since I seem to have fucked up my knee, I have no fucking idea what I'm doing for my dissertation or whether it'll work out. I don't know where I'm going to move to or with who. I hate uncertainty. I hate not being perfect.

Oh well, 45 minutes to go before I have to leave for university to put the finishing touches on my essay, print it out and submit it, and then get cracking on reading for my dissertation AND catch up on my previous sem's work. And I'll probably hit the gym in my 2 hour gap in between lectures to try to release some endorphins but probably just die from exhaustion instead. URGH. I sort of want to fast forward to tonight so I can have a cuppa tea, some biscuits, and hit the sack with Supernatural... but even then I can't cause I have to sort out my massive pile of mail, paperwork, and figure out when I'm going to do all the important chores I need to do.

I'm going to get a bowl of honey stars and a cuppa tea and then put on some makeup, pack my bag for uni and face the day. Wish me luck.

Everytime I come back to Singapore, the time simply flies by. And by the end of it I realise that I've learnt pretty much the same things that I did the last time.

Dear Sindhu,

alpha) Friendship may be something that entertains you, and something that gives back to you, but ultimately it's hard work. You have to forgive and forgive and remember that people are not who you want them to be, and try and try and try to be who people want you to be.

bravo) Yes, the food may be nice but at the end of just a week all you want is a massive bowl of salad and a low-fat yogurt. So by God, Sindhu, stop fucking eating til you feel sick.

charlie) You don't miss your parents. Okay let's say it again so you'll actually remember it. You don't miss your parents. You miss the good times but there have been far more bad ones. You cherish setting your own schedule too much to pander to someone else's.

delta) The shopping is insanely good. Bring less luggage next time so you can bring more back. But bring more money! You always run out.

echo) Other people's insecurities are not your insecurities. You don't need insecurities. You are happy the way your life is.

foxtrot) The fatherland is not as cool as it used to be. Basket.

golf) You don't get work done. And you don't go to the gym. Either get realistic or get motivated.

hotel) You miss your friends and your sister the most, idiot. Work harder to keep in touch.

Just a few words before I sleep, to sort my head out about my crazy day ahead:

I really hope I wake up at 7am tomorrow! I need to shave and exfoliate, pack my toothbrush and razor, and get my ass to uni for two hours of lectures, an hour tutorial, an hour meeting some friends, and an hour of boxing before I shower, repack my toiletries and HUSTLE to King's Cross to get the hour tube to Heathrow. And somewhere in there I have to grab some food but it might end up being a yogurt and an orange. I have not checked in either. How stressful. I'll be relaxed once I'm on my 14hour flight (deep vein thrombosis notwithstanding).

Once I get off (at 3pm), it's making myself look presentable, picking up some rum, and getting myself through customs before I (hopefully) meet Nagalicious on the other side. And then prata and catching up before I get home to surprise my parents. Hee hee hee.

Here's hoping everything goes well. I'll be using my UK number until I get a SIM, hopefully at the airport.